Pee Wees on First (4 page)

B
rett didn’t seem to want to go to the park, thought Molly. He kept trying to escape. Molly and Mary Beth ran along in front of him, turning around to talk.

“You don’t happen to know Baby Ruth, do you?” asked Molly politely. And casually.

“Baby Ruth?” he asked. He looked puzzled.

“He has to pretend he doesn’t know anything about baseball,” Molly whispered to Mary Beth. “So we won’t know who he is. He’s playing dumb.”

Mary Beth nodded. “He’s doing a good job of it,” she whispered back.

“Baby Ruth, Baby Ruth,” sang Molly. “Have you ever heard of Baby Ruth?”

“The ballplayer?” asked Brett. “Babe Ruth?”

Now they were making progress! It
was
Brett! No one else would know about Baby Ruth, the little girl ballplayer who was named after a candy bar!

“Babe or Baby,” said Molly. “Did you ever play with her?”

Now the man looked worried. Molly’s question seemed to bother him! He pulled away from Sonny and Roger. As he did, his package of baseballs and trophies fell to the ground. The package opened, but what fell out were not baseballs or trophies.

What fell out were lots and lots of papers.
Papers with writing on them, and people’s names. Papers that said
ACME INSURANCE AGENCY
at the top.

A sandwich fell out too. It was wrapped in waxed paper and it smelled like tuna fish.

Brett scrambled to pick everything up. The Pee Wees helped.

“I’m an insurance salesman,” said the man.

“He’s just saying that,” whispered Mary Beth to Molly. “To put us off. He doesn’t want to let us know who he really is. That’s why he carries around these fake papers.”

“Sure, sure, you’re an insurance salesman!” said Roger, winking at the man in a knowing way. Sonny winked too.

Roger sidled up to the man. When he got close, he whispered, “We all know you really aren’t an insurance man, don’t we?”

Molly took Roger aside.

“We could pretend to buy some insurance,” she said. “We could play along with him, and then we could work in some baseball questions.”

“I don’t think we have to do that,” said Roger. “I think he can tell us who he really is. Hey, we won’t blow your cover,” he said, jabbing the man in the ribs in a confidential way.

Now the man looked nervous. It was true the Pee Wees were on to him, but it wasn’t as if he were a crook or something, thought Molly. There was nothing to be embarrassed about just because you were a retired baseball player.

“Being a ballplayer is nothing to be ashamed of,” said Molly kindly.

“Lots of people play ball,” said Sonny.

“You’re going to speak at our Scout meeting on Tuesday,” Roger confessed.

“We just wanted you to see us play first.”

“And we wanted you to answer some questions,” said Molly.

Brett looked confused. Just then a man came up to him and said, “There you are, Roland! I’ve been waiting at the office for you. Our meeting starts in five minutes! This is our chance to insure all of those airport workers!”

Roland? Airport workers? What was happening here?

The Pee Wees were stunned. “He really
is
an insurance man!” said Molly.

“That’s what I told you,” grumbled Roland.

“Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t Brett?” demanded Mary Beth, stamping her foot.

“You lied to us!” said Sonny.

“He didn’t lie,” said Molly. “He never said he was Brett.”

Roland brushed his suit off and straightened his papers.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said to the man. “These kids are crazy! They kept calling me Brett!”

How could the Pee Wees have made such a mistake? What made them think Roland was Brett? Poor Roland, thought Molly. It wasn’t his fault they thought he was Brett. And now they had made him late for a meeting!

“We have to apologize,” whispered Molly to Mary Beth. She knew Roger would never say he was sorry. It was up to the girls.

“It was our fault,” said Mary Beth. “We thought you were someone else.”

“We’re sorry we made you late,” added Molly.

Roland patted Molly on the head and muttered that it was all right. He looked like he just wanted to get away from the
Pee Wees as fast as he could. He walked off down the street to his insurance meeting. The Pee Wees started for home, feeling rather low.

“What a waste of time,” said Sonny. “I still think he tricked us.”

When Molly got home, the phone was ringing. Sonny had told his mother about Roland, and she had called Mrs. Peters. Mrs. Peters told the Duffs the story.

“You know,” said Molly’s dad, “you children should not have talked to strangers.”

“That’s right,” said Molly’s mother. “Roland could have been a criminal and had a weapon,” she went on, “and kidnapped you or Sonny.”

“Who’d want Sonny?” muttered Molly. “And we needed to meet Brett and talk to him.”

Molly wasn’t sure she knew the difference
between being a good Scout getting information for her badge, and being a careless Scout, talking to strangers and being kidnapped.

The story got back to all the Scouts, and Rachel called Molly, and then Ashley called her. After that Jody called.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he said. “You could have been kidnapped!”

Jody liked her! He was glad she was safe! But maybe he would have been glad for any of the Pee Wees. Maybe he had called Mary Beth, too! Jody was a nice person. He liked everyone, not just Molly. Still, it was nice of him to be glad she was safe.

A
t the next Pee Wee meeting, some of the Scouts brought their scrapbooks. Kevin’s was big, but not as big as Molly’s.

Molly’s was the biggest. It had the most pictures and the most facts, and it was the only one with real stories in it. Mrs. Peters held it up for the class.

“This is a fine job!” said Mrs. Peters. “It looks like Molly has half her badge already.”

Rat’s knees. Half a badge. It sounded like even a fat notebook would not be enough. She would have to hit a ball.

“Hey, I’ve got as much stuff as Molly does,” said Roger. “I’ll bet she doesn’t know what home plate is made out of.”

“I do too,” said Molly. “Rubber.”

“Well, I’ll bet you don’t know how much a baseball weighs,” he said.

“Five ounces is regulation,” said Molly.

All the Pee Wees clapped. Roger looked as red as Roland the insurance man had looked.

Then there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Stone went upstairs to answer it. When she came down, she said, “Boys and girls, this is Brett Brady!”

A man who was not tall and dark walked into the room.

His hair was not curly. And not black. It was gray and white.

“Hi,” he said to Troop 23. “I’m Brett
Brady and I hear you thought I was an insurance salesman!”

Some of the Pee Wees looked embarrassed. Molly jumped to her feet.

“We didn’t think
you
were Roland,” she said. “We thought Roland was you. I mean …”

Brett laughed. “I was just joking,” he said.

Molly sat down. She had not said that right. But Brett Brady didn’t seem upset. He told them about his days on the team. He told about the home runs he had hit. He told them funny stories about the players and the fans. And he answered their questions.

“Hey, who was the fastest pitcher ever?” shouted Roger.

“That was Nolan Ryan,” said Brett. “He pitched a ball recorded at one hundred miles an hour in 1974 for the California Angels.”

“I knew that,” said Molly. “It’s in my scrapbook!”

Brett answered more questions. He told them that baseball’s longest game was 33 innings, and had to be continued at a later date. He told them that one famous ballplayer for St. Louis named Pete Gray only had one arm.

Tim put one arm behind his back and pretended to swing a bat with the other. Soon all the Pee Wees were playing one-armed baseball. Mrs. Peters had to tell them to be quiet and sit down.

Molly wanted to ask Brett about Baby Ruth, but she didn’t get a chance. The meeting was over, and everyone followed Brett outside to hit balls for him and try to get on his team. The boys were knocking each other over to be first in line. Brett showed them all how to hold a bat the professional way. And how to hit the ball. But he didn’t sign Roger up for his team, or any of the other Pee Wees.

After Brett had left, Mrs. Peters talked a little more about baseball, and said, “On Saturday we will have our big game in the park. The parents will play Troop 23. It will be a chance for you all to hit the ball and get your badge.”

There it was again. Hitting the ball. It was getting close to badge time, and without a fat bat Molly was doomed.

When she got home, her dad seemed to read her mind. “Let’s go out in the yard and hit some balls,” he said after dinner. “Let me show you how the old Ace can hit a home run.”

“Not through our kitchen window,” warned Molly’s mother.

Mr. Duff looked shocked. “Of course not!” he said.

In the yard, he set up three bases with some rocks. Skippy watched him.

“Now when I hit the ball, I run to first base, then second, then third, then home,” he explained.

Molly threw him the ball. He didn’t hit it.

She threw it again. This time he hit it and it went over their garage. Her dad dashed around all three bases. Skippy ran after him.

“Go, Skippy!” Molly cried. Maybe her dad would forget about teaching her baseball.

“Now usually there would be players on the bases or in the field to catch the ball and put me out,” he said. “But if they didn’t, I’d make a home run.”

Now it was Molly’s turn. “Keep your eye on the ball,” he said.

Molly did. But it didn’t help. She missed the ball. Then she missed it again.

Then her dad moved up closer so
she would be sure to hit it. But it flew by Molly and rolled across the lawn. Skippy caught it and brought it over to Molly.

“Good dog,” she said. Skippy dropped the ball on her foot.

Her dad was a good pitcher, Molly thought, and a good teacher, so it must be Molly who was a bad student. All she could hope was that by Saturday it would rain. Hard. And they wouldn’t be able to play.

“Chin up!” said her dad. “There are worse things in the world than not being a good ballplayer.”

He might be right, but Molly wanted that badge. If only she could find a fatter bat!

And then she saw it! When she hung her sweater up in the closet, there was something lying on the shelf she had not noticed before! It was like a bat, but it was
fatter than a bat! It looked like the answer to her problem! She took it down and put it into a bag.

On Saturday the sun was shining brightly. The Pee Wees gathered in the park. Molly had her bag with her.

Sonny was the only one with a baseball uniform on. It said DODGERS on the back of it. It was too big for Sonny.

“Hey, what are you going to dodge, Stone?” yelled Roger.

Mr. Peters put an old pie pan where home plate was. Then he put a sandbag on each base.